


Throwing It All Away

by hippiechick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, burnt toast, pop culture reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippiechick/pseuds/hippiechick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is quick, but John is wily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throwing It All Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [221b_hound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_hound/gifts), [AtlinMerrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlinMerrick/gifts).



> I lamented to 221b_hound that I wanted to write pretty things like she and AtlinMerrick write. They both encouraged me to give it a try, so here it is. I used a prompt from Atlin to get some sort of idea in my brain. You decide if it was a good one or not (but please be kind?!)

"You know I'm just going to take those off of you so you might as well wait until I've had my way," said Sherlock as he waggled his eyebrows at John. But John was feeling just contrary, and horny, enough to smirk back with "You and what army?" The game, as they say, was ON.

Sherlock was quick and graceful as he lunged for his love, but John was wilier. The next thing Sherlock knew, he was on his back with the lovely weight of his doctor straddling him. This was one battle Sherlock didn't mind losing. John leaned down and wantonly kissed those maddening lips. Sherlock arched his back, forcing their erections into closer contact, then moaned as John moved to nip a luscious nipple. John could feel the dampness between them through his pants and rutted against Sherlock with only one thought in mind. It turned out to be the same thought that Sherlock had, because, with practiced ease, he flipped John off to lay face to face and they both found their hand on the other's cock. It was quick, hot, dirty; soon they were coming in glorious spurts across their bellies.

As they caught their breath, Sherlock handed the gold pants back to John. Sherlock sat up, straightened his fishnet stockings, readjusted his own black satin pants and pulled his bustier back in line. John slid his legs into the gold pants and said, "Let's go throw all that burnt toast you made this morning."

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was "burnt toast." This was the first thing that came to mind. Not sure what that says about my mind.


End file.
